


Caught Between The Walls

by Nona__AM



Series: SpookyOQ [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Brief mentions of domestic abuse, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nona__AM/pseuds/Nona__AM
Summary: Written for SpookyOQDay Two, Tuesday.Prompt: Trapped.





	1. Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Nothing based off true events in this prompt, but I’ll still include a little something at the very end if anyone’s interested in some spooky things!
> 
> Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my mistakes. 
> 
> TW: Brief mentions of domestic violence.

There was something exciting about exploring the most haunted places in the world—idiotic, definitely, but exciting. The thrill of going places others didn’t dare step into, communicating with ghosts, spirits, whatever it was that responded to them, and making new discoveries that were unheard of before.

But it was also expensive. Traveling across the country was pricey, and they weren’t funded by anyone. Every trip required food, gas, and hotel payments, none of which were cheap. And there were also the high-quality equipments they used; the EVP recorders, EMF meters, and the goddamn Ghost Cam that costed them seven-hundred bucks. They shouldn’t be spending thousands over their hunts, not when they barely profited anything from them. But it wasn’t just a hobby, it wasn’t something they did to pass time. They did it because they were intrigued by the unknown, they were fascinated by the stories of every paranormal experience, curious.

So they gratified their curiosity one last. One last adventure.

An old, abandoned mansion in a small town in Maine called Storybrooke.

Odd name. Regina Mills almost didn’t believe it when her best friend, the co-founder of their group, Robin Locksley, told her. Storybrooke, really? Out of all the names available in the world, the town was called Storybrooke?

But it was real, and it was spine-chilling. They’d never been to a place so dead before. Quiet. One would think no one lived in it. The streets were empty, save for a small handful of people they passed by upon entering, staring at them as if they’d seen something so abnormal. And the buildings were old, barely holding it together. Every step drew a loud creak. It was unsettling, and that said a lot coming from a woman who experienced it all.

For a final adventure, though, it’d be worth it.

It had to be.

“I hope you’re right about this place, Locksley,” Regina said, flopping down onto her side of the bed. Goddamn this stupid town. How could it not have internet or phone service? There was none on any of their phones. “Because a day without checking my emails is torture, but a week would be enough to make me lose my mind, and probably kill you for making me agree to this.” 

Robin chuckled on the other side, facing away from her as he rid himself of his shoes. “Trust me, I’ve heard it’s one of the most haunted places.”

“You said the same about the last place we went to, and what was the only thing that made us scream?”

“A rat…”

“A rat,” she confirmed. “There were no ghosts, not a single thing out of the ordinary. It was just an old, dusty house.”

“It still had some weird vibes to it.” 

“But it doesn’t change the fact that it was nothing but an old house. Nothing paranormal about it.” Her brows rose in a knowing look when he turned to her. “We stayed there for three days, Robin. We _slept_ in the house. We used a ouija board to summon whatever presence was there, and nothing came through. The planchette didn’t even move an inch.”

“I know,” Robin sighed defeatedly. “But I’m sure about this place. A hundred percent sure. Trust me.”

“How did you even find it anyways?” Perhaps it was a question she should’ve asked long before agreeing to come along on the trip. When she searched the internet and found absolutely nothing about Storybrooke, as if the place didn’t even exist. Too late, though. They were miles and miles away from home.

“I went to get my car fixed and this old man working there started talking about this place,” Robin said, lowering himself beside her on the bed. “He said there’s this mansion down…Mifflin Street, I believe it’s called, and it’s haunted. No one’s lived in it for a while because weird things continue to happen there. People say they’ve seen lights flicker on and off. A woman in white—“

“A woman in white? Of course,” Regina scoffed. It was always women in white. Whoever said every spooky, ghost story had to include that?

“As I was saying,” Robin continued, “a woman in white was seen crossing from one side of the upper level to the other, and any daredevil that entered the mansion said to have felt as though they were being watched and followed. Some reported hearing a little child singing and crying.”

Regina laughed. A wholehearted belly laugh erupting out of her in amusement. “It really doesn’t get any more cliché than this. Women in white, children crying? What’s next, someone going _boo_?” She shook her head in disbelief. For a man who spent over a decade doing this, chasing after the paranormal, she expected more from him. He should’ve known better than to waste their time and limited money on something as stupid as this. It’ll just be another trip full of failed sessions and disappointments. Again.

“Trust me on this,” he implored.

They were already in Storybrooke, their equipments set up around the infamous mansion—did she really have any other choice?

“This is the last one,” Regina repeated, holding her index up between them. “I’m not going on another one of these haunts again. I’m tired of it. I’m getting a real job, I’m settling down somewhere.”

“Understood,” Robin promised, head bobbing rapidly. “It’s the last one.”

* * *

The first night, just as Regina suspected, was uneventful.

Nothing happened aside from some squeaky noises during the night, to which they dismissed as the place being old. It creaked, whether they walked around or stayed still, it didn’t matter. Old houses did that.

The second night, however, was different.

It all began after sundown. The atmosphere shifted, an invisible weight settled heavily on their chests, and the cameras they set up in various locations around the mansion continued to turn off on their own. Light footsteps tapping along the stairs were also heard while they were all gathered in one place, and sounds of knocking came from wide open doors, making it clear that it wasn’t any of them trying to scare the others. Or anyone at all.

“Is this thing recording?” Robin mumbled to himself, a slight grumble to his tone as he tapped and turned around the small camera in his hand. “Okay, it’s recording. Alright. It’s currently day two in the Mifflin Street mansion here in Storybrooke, Maine, and things are starting to feel…weird.” He sounded proud of himself. He looked so proud with that wide grin on his face as he continued talking in front of the device, explaining the little unusual things happening around.

He was right, not that Regina’s pride would allow her admit it out loud, but the place was definitely haunted. She could feel it in the way the air grew thick around them all of the sudden. The slight smell of smoke surrounding them. Smoke always indicated something being present…and something very, very unpleasant.

“Okay, the ouija board is set up,” Ruby announced, just as Regina lit up the last candle and blew out the match. “Tink’s getting the EVP recorder and Emma is going around the rooms with the EMF meter and—“

“Graham?” Regina asked.

“He’s checking the cameras to see if they’re still recording.”

They’ve been turning off at odd times, being tampered by with whatever energy that was among them for whatever reason. It could be a playful presence wanting nothing more than to get their attention. After all, people have said they’ve heard a child in the mansion. But it could also be something inauspicious that didn’t want to be recorded and wanted them out.

“You ready?” Robin asked as she joined him on the table they set up in the center of the room, sitting across him,

She nodded, her hands resting over one side of the planchette. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

It was a shame their group was incomplete, though. One last time and not everyone was around to celebrate what a successful hunt this one was shaping up to be. Victor was out of the country, visiting his ill brother in Switzerland, and David couldn’t leave his heavily pregnant wife behind with her being so close to her due date. But both would’ve loved it. She was sure of that.

“All cameras are working,” Graham informed.

“And there’s definitely a strong presence in this room,” Emma murmured, turning the EMF device in their direction as the sensor went off, confirming her words.

Well, that was their cue to start then.

“Tink?” Regina glanced back over her shoulder at her friend, who shook her head.

“I’m sitting this one out.”

No one could blame her. The last time she joined a ouija board session, it didn’t end so well. Halfway through it, breathing became difficult, and she walked away traumatized at the feeling of being held back by someone—rather, something.

They began. Everyone staring at the board intently, waiting to catch a glimpse of the planchette moving, even slightly, as Robin started his list of questions.

“Is anyone around?”

Nothing.

“We know someone is here. We feel your presence.”

Not even an inch.

“Is it the little child?”

Still nothing, and then—

“It’s moving,” Regina whispered, almost in disbelief at the sight of the planchette inching to the far right where the word _‘no’_ was carved. Part of her expected this time around to be as unsuccessful as the last. But it moved. It actually moved.

“If it’s not the child, then who the fuck is it, the woman in white?” Robin snorted.

“What did we say about cursing at spirits, Robin?” Regina rebuked. “One day you’re gonna end up dying a mysterious death if you keep up with this crap.”

“Yes, Mother,” he huffed out with an eye roll, only irking her further.

She ignored him, though, only because the planchette moved again, answering with a _yes_.

“The woman in white…” Regina muttered, astonished.

“Ask her if she’s got a name!” Ruby suggested, her voice a little risen to compete with the deafening sound of the EVP recorder.

The continuous screeching irritated Regina’s ears. No matter how many times she’d been around one, how many hours she spent listening to that godawful sound, it was just as galling.

The planchette moved again. Slowly, pushing over toward the first letter with an effort, as if it weighed a ton, rather than being something that could easily be as light as a feather. And then it stopped, a centimeter away from the _R_.

That was…unsettling.

“You…you didn’t do that, did you?” Regina murmured, her gaze lifting off the board only to be met with Robin’s, who quietly shook his head in denial.

“If I intended on scaring you, I would’ve kicked the table or brushed my foot up your leg, not that.”

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was overreacting, but the hairs on her arms stood.

Regina dismissed the sinking feeling. It was probably nothing. “Let’s ask some more questions before reviewing the recordings.”

* * *

They asked a few more questions. Asked about her name again, about who she was and how she died, and who the little child was. If she was a tortured spirit unable to move on…or something else. But the planchette never moved. The eerie feeling of the room closing in on them, however, grew. The sudden inability to breathe, the whiff of smoke, as if something was burning—none of that was a good sign. A bad omen. It should’ve been their cue to leave, to get out of the mansion, out of the odd town that Storybrooke was.

And yet, they stayed.

They stayed because of what they heard when they played back the EVP recordings.

 _Regina_.

That was the name the device caught right after they asked the woman in white for her name. A quick, short answer, almost breathless, and followed by an animalistic growl. And then it went quiet.

They called it a night when the activities ceased and decided to sleep at the mansion, just incase something decided to show itself.

It wasn’t something they’ve not done before. It was a must for better results.

“Are you sure about sleeping in there alone?” Robin asked, nodding his chin toward the bedroom on their right side, a gentle hand resting soothingly over Regina’s elbow.

It was a stupid idea to split up the team and have each person take up a room to stay in on their own. So he was concerned and rightfully so—not to mention, of all the people present in the residence during the ouija board session, her name was the one mentioned. He has also been her best friend for years and years, he was always so protective of her, worrying about her over the smallest and silliest things.

Regina sucked in a shuddered breath. No, she wasn’t sure. She was never sure about these kind of things and yet, she continued doing them. “It’s for the best, you know that.”

“I know.” He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers briefly before planting a kiss to it. Ever so sweet, that man. “I’ll be in the room across,” he reminded, gesturing to their left side, and she nodded, already knowing what were the words that would follow. His usual reassurance during every one of their little adventures. “If you need anything, anything at all, Regina, call for me, or just walk right in and wake me up. No matter how late it is.”

And as always, she wouldn’t.

But as she did every time he said that to her, she promised to do just that.

* * *

The silence made it impossible for Regina to close her eyes for more than a blink. How could people find peace in the dark and quiet? Weren’t their thoughts too loud? Too demanding of their attention to put them at ease, or was it just her?

Always her?

Because her mind was repeating the session over and over again. So many questions she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the answers for.

Why her name?

Who was that woman?

Why did she sound so breathless, as though she was running?

What was the actual story behind this place and why was she, the woman so against the whole trip in the first place, was so drawn to it?

It made no sense, but again, did the supernatural world ever make any sense?

Who and what were these things among them? Some claimed ghosts, others claimed spirits with unfinished business. And then there were the people who believed that these things, the unexplained, were something far more sinister. Something born out of evil. Something like…demons.

But whatever they were—whatever still resided in the abandoned mansion, it wasn’t a friendly presence.

* * *

 

_“I’m pregnant,” she told him, her smile wider than it’d ever been._

_It wasn’t planned. They never talked about having a family, it wasn’t a subject either of them ever brought up—not that Regina had the chance to anyways. Leo was always busy. Too busy for her unless he wanted something from her, of course, and if she had to be frank, it worked best that way._

_She didn’t love him._

_Their marriage was loveless. Arranged. A business deal put in place by her mother’s thirst for money and power, sealing her fate to a man twice her age. If not, thrice._

_But she tried to make it work, because that’s what Mother told her to do. To be a good, obedient wife, so that’s what she was. Good and obedient, always granting him his wishes, giving him whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it without any complaints. In return, the marriage wasn’t too bad. It was bearable. He was…nice, whenever he wasn’t around alcohol, at least._

_And he was nice then, his smile equally as wide as hers at the news._

_“Are you—oh, God—Regina, are you sure?” he stuttered, and she nodded with a delighted chuckle._

_Maybe things would take a turn to the better. If love wouldn’t bloom between them, which she was certain it never would, understanding might._

_His aggressive behaviors might subside. His drinking problem might go away. The pain might stop._

_The baby would change it all, she knew it._

_If only she knew it wouldn’t go the way she hoped, though._

_Not even in the slightest._

_It was a crisp November evening when Leo came home beyond himself, laughing and raving about that special surprise he had for her, and before she knew it, she was ushered out of door and into the car, and off they were to the destination he told her would be the start of their new life together._

_To a house they’d call their own. Rather, a gigantic white colonial mansion that knocked the breath right out of her. Large building with spacious front yard and backyard, enough for their child to run around freely. Tall trees and rose bushes all around. It was stunning. It couldn’t get any more perfect than that._

_Leo showed her the inside of it. It was empty for the time being, but he pointed at places, detailing what every corner would have. Where the furnitures would go, the fireplace and how they’d sit in front of it during the winter weather. Which room would be theirs and which room would be their baby’s._

_And it felt right._

_After almost two years of being with him, almost two years of feeling out of place, she felt like she belonged._

_But then everything changed._

_Just as the happiness came, it went when Leo turned to her with a sadistic smile on his face, uttering one degrading sentence after another. Repeating the same belittling words her mother said to her growing up. Reminding her of how useless she was. Pathetic. Why would he want her when he could have any other woman in the world? A woman that would please him better than she ever did. A woman that wouldn’t tie him down to such responsibilities. A baby? Did she really think after all these years, being at the age that he was, he’d want a baby to look after? Especially when things were only getting better for him. When life was getting brighter—have that and dull it all?_

_He laughed at her, at how naïve she was for believing every lie he said, then shoved her away and left her in the house that was meant to be theirs. Sobbing on the staircase, surrounded by the flames he ignited to wipe her out of existence. Two birds with one stone, as he said. Her father was dead, her mother never cared, no one would miss her._

_Still, she got up and ran to him, as fast she could with her aching joints and the extra weight she was carrying, banging on the doors he padlocked from the outside, begging for her life, her baby’s. But he ignored her, turned his back to her as if she wasn’t there, lighting a cigarette so casually as she cried behind him._

_He didn’t help her._

_No one did._

_“Regina…”_

“Regina, wake up.”

The voice startled her awake and she sat up with a violent, audible gasp, her eyes bulging, her heart racing, and tears clinging to her lashes.

It felt real.

It felt _so_ real.

“What happened?” Robin whispered, his voice laced with worry as his hand soothingly rubbed over her back. “Are you okay? You were sobbing.”

“I’m…” Not fine. She wasn’t fine. The dreadful feeling that consumed her upon entering the house only grew. That wasn’t a bad dream. It couldn’t have been. It felt too damn real to be a nightmare. It was the house. It was what happened in the house. It was a cry for help. “She’s trapped.”

“What is she talking about?” Emma murmured, standing by the doorway with the rest of their team, all of them obviously concerned with their knitted browns and pursed lips.

“She lost her mind,” Ruby scoffed back.

“Who’s trapped?” Robin asked, and Regina lifted her head up, staring directly at him with a frown painted over her face.

“Regina.”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for SpookyOQ.
> 
> Day Five, Friday. 
> 
> Prompt: Corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There are some things that are based off true events but nothing major. Just some of what Regina experienced growing up. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my mistakes. 
> 
> TW: Mentions of death. Not a major character...not really. It's all in the flashback/dream. So, nothing to worry about.

* * *

Chasing after the unknown was something Regina had done for most of her life. Ever since she was an oblivious, little child, she’d heard things and seen things others couldn’t, and the only explanation she was ever given by her mother, was that it was all a part of her imagination. She was an artistic girl with an endless ocean of creative visions that sometimes made it hard for her to tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t. And they weren’t. Mother told her, repeatedly, day after day of those unexplained movements, the sounds, the touches, that it was her brain. That they weren’t real. 

But they were.

Her things disappearing and reappearing in odd places, places she was _sure_ she’d not left them at. The knocking on the bathroom door every time she would shower, or someone calling out her name when no one was there. The mysterious, angry red scratches and bruises that would appear out of nowhere. And the child. That sweet, eerie sound of a child in the dead of night, singing and crying—it wasn’t a part of her imagination. It was real, and talking about it was how she ended up meeting Robin, and through him she’d met the rest.

Talking about it led her to the mansion they were currently staying at, the one place she felt incredibly uncomfortable in. As much as she wanted nothing more than to leave, she stayed. As if something was tying her down to the property. 

“We’re doing another ouija board session,” Regina demanded, leaving no place for anyone to argue as she grabbed the board and slammed it down on the center of the table. “Ruby—“

“I’ll get the EVP recorder,” Ruby answered out of instinct.

“And Graham and I will check on the cameras and if they’re still rolling,” Tink announced, and Emma grabbed the EMF meter and plopped down on the chair set up in the corner of the basement.

All was ready. Lights were off, candles were lit, everyone was gathered around again.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked, his voice barely above a whisper, just enough to be heard between the two of them, and she nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Regina,” he said, a little firmer, and she looked up. “Are you okay?” he repeated, emphasizing every word.

Truthfully, she wasn’t. But it was evident in the way she looked, wasn’t it? The bags under her bloodshot eyes, the lack of effort in the way she dressed. The frustration radiating off her. It was none of their fault. It was the mansion. It was putting her in such low spirits.

“I’ll be okay,” she promised. “Just…let me do the talking this time, alright?”

At his nod, they began.

First question went unanswered, the planchette didn’t move.

The second question was the same.

The third, however, they got a response.

“Regina, are you here?” Regina asked, feeling rather awkward for saying her own name to address someone else, but the planchette dragged itself to the _yes._

There, a progress. They were finally getting somewhere, slowly but surely.

“I’m sorry if we came off a little too hostile the other day—“

“You’re apologizing to a ghost?” Robin scoffed.

She shot him a glare and continued, “As I was saying—I’m sorry about that. I hope you’re not…mad at us.”

Okay, maybe Robin was right. Saying that did feel stupid. But no one would like an angry ghost around.

The planchette moved to the _no,_ and she smiled a little.

“The little child, is it yours?” she asked, almost hesitantly, and the object moved again.

_Yes._

Her smile disappeared, replaced by a frown at the thought of a child dying so young…or not being born at all.

“It was the fire, wasn’t it?”

“What fire?” Robin asked, blinking his bulging eyes, and she wouldn’t blame him for being so surprised.

Save for some creaky floors and rusted door handles, the mansion was in perfect condition. No one would believe a fire ever engulfed these walls at some point. There was nothing that pointed at such ever taking place. Nothing but the dream she had.

The planchette moved again, then stopped in the center of the board. A minute went by and they were surrounded by nothing but silence, then it moved again.

Another _yes_.

“You had something to do with the nightmare, didn’t you?” Regina asked, her voice trembling as the tears brimmed her eyes. It felt so real—“Because it was real, wasn’t it?” she whispered.

Instead of the usual yes or no, the planchette began spelling out a word.

_H…E…L…P_

“Help…” Robin trailed off.

“How?” Regina pleaded, and instead of the answer she sought, a sudden puff of wind blew the candles out and the planchette ceased again.

* * *

_He returned._

_When the house was still standing through the flames but done claiming his victims, he returned._

_He brought his friends and began putting out the fire to salvage whatever that was left of the mansion._

_It was untouched—from the outside anyways. From the inside, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be repaired with a little bit of time and money, and he had both._

_He returned unmoved. Unbothered by the sight of his pregnant wife’s body, curled up right in the middle of the entrance. Not an ounce of remorse as he watched her and brushed a strand of hair away from her pale face with a cold smile. The flames didn’t touch her, not even a lick to burn her. She was unharmed and yet, she was gone._

_It wasn’t what he wanted—a body to worry about, to get rid of. But the job was done, there was nothing to complain about anymore, was it? He wanted her gone and she was gone, along with that burden she was carrying._

_How stupid did she have to be to think he’d ever be happy about that?_

_How naïve was she truly?_

_It didn’t matter._

_Nothing mattered as he picked her lifeless body and carried her out back, burying her by the apple tree she loved so much. At least he was nice enough to give her something she wanted even after death._

_He wasn’t so terrible after all._

* * *

Regina woke up in cold sweat, a loud, audible gasp erupting out of her as she sat up, clutching at her right arm.

Someone touched her.

_Something_ touched her, she felt it. A heavy hand smacking right at her bicep, leaving behind a sting.

She almost didn’t believe it, though. Tried convincing herself that it was another form of the reoccurring dream she was having, where she was falling. But there it was, a red mark that only continue to grow darker in color.

Something _did_ touch her. And it worried her as to who it might actually be.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for taking too long to update (all of my fics) but I just wasn't feeling it. Writer's block and depression isn't a great combination. Updates will still be slow, but I'll do my best to make them as frequent as possible.

* * *

It was supposed to be there, the apple tree from her dream—nightmare, vision, whatever the hell it was.

It was supposed to be right where the shed was. But it wasn’t. There was no evidence to indicate it’d ever been one either.

“You heard the old man, Regina. He lived by the mansion his entire life and he’d never seen an apple tree in the backyard. And this shack looks decades old!” Robin complained, coughing up the dust gathered inside it, fingers tracing the decaying wood.

But that was it, though.

The incident could’ve occurred decades _before_ the man was even born. Before the shed was ever built. No one could know for sure.

“And if something as big as murder, as you claim, happened here,” Robin added with a click of a tongue, “I’m certain the town would know something about it.”  
 ****

He was right about that, as much as she hated to admit it. If a murder did take place in the town’s most haunted house, there would’ve been legends pouring out of every person’s mouth, stories and assumptions about it. But there was nothing. No one knew more than what they’ve already told them—a woman and a child, both haunting the place.

Something so big wouldn’t just cease to exist. A pregnant woman couldn’t just cease to exist.

“Yeah…” Regina whispered defeatedly, her hand mindlessly brushing over her arm. “I guess it could just be my mind playing tricks on me.”

“Could be,” Robin agreed. “Or it could be whatever is in this house that’s messing with you. You know how dark entities tend to be.”

That was possible. Very possible, in fact. The bruise she woke up with should be enough proof that something didn’t want them on the property and yet, she wasn’t a hundred-percent convinced that was all to it.

Whatever she saw felt too real to be nothing.

“I don’t know, Robin—“

“We could ask other people,” he quickly suggested, and that put a smile on her face. The fact that he didn’t dismiss her worries as if they were nothing, even when he didn’t believe in them himself. “We won’t be losing anything by doing that.”

She nodded. “It’ll mean a lot to me.”

“Just…just don’t get too attached to this, Regina,” he warmed, worry evident across his face as he reached for her elbow when she turned to exit the shed, a gentle grip stopping her from leaving. “You know better than to—“

“I know,” she interrupted. “I’m not _attached_ to this. I’m just…sure there’s a story behind this place, and as a curious human being, I wanna know it.”

* * *

Emma and Graham stayed behind to document any unusual movements in the mansion, and Regina, Robin, Tink and Ruby asked around town for any information about it. No matter how little or useless it would seem, Regina wanted it all.

Unfortunately, the day ended with them returning empty-handed.

Most people knew nothing other than it being an old mansion with passed down stories about the creepy things that allegedly happened inside it. Tales they’ve been told by their parents, who’d been told by their parents. Others didn’t really want to talk to them. They avoided them like the plague, rushing past them on the streets before the group of friends could utter a single word.

“I didn’t find anything about it in the town’s library,” Tink said with a shrug, lips pursed in disappointment.

“And everyone I talked to only knew it as the haunted house on Mifflin street,” Ruby supplied with a frustrated sigh. “Even the old lady from that diner knew it as that, nothing else!”

But that wasn’t it. It just simply wasn’t.

“There has to be more.” Regina huffed, shaking her head. No way was she settling on it just being a haunted house that scared the townspeople for generations. A house wouldn’t simply be possessed by a clearly dark presence without a reason.

Something happened. The fire happened.

“We’ll look again tomorrow,” Robin promised, his hand enveloping hers and squeezing for comfort. “As for tonight, what do you plan on doing?”

“I don’t know,” Regina murmured. “What more can we do?”

“BooBuddy?” Ruby suggested.

“The teddy bear?” Regina scoffed. “That _useless_ thing you got for three-hundred bucks?”

“It had great reviews!” Ruby defended with an eye roll. “And it’s cute.”

“It’s just a fancier version of an EMF,” Tink stated matter-of-factly.

“Thank you!” Regina exclaimed. Finally, someone standing on her side.

“It’s actually more than that,” Robin butted in. “It detects changes in temperature, movements, and all sort of things. It responds—“

“Of course it does,” Regina murmured. “Because sleeping in a haunted house alone isn’t scary enough, adding a talking stuffed toy would make all things better, right?”

Both Ruby and Robin rolled their eyes, and Tink shrugged when Regina looked over at her for her opinion.

“We won’t lose anything if we give the bear a try,” Tink said. “It’s a teddy bear, it might attract the kid spirit.”

Well…that was a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind.

She had a point. Children loved toys, BooBuddy might just attract the kid. It was perfect.

“Alright,” Regina gave in with a defeated sigh, waving in the direction of the teddy bear. “We’ll use it.”

* * *

It was complete silence as they switched on the teddy bear and watched as it beep, coming to life as his belly lit up, an indication of it being activated. Just as the instructions stated, BooBuddy conducted the baseline, taking less than a minute before his paws stopping blinking, giving them the green light to proceed.

“Camera?” Regina mouthed Emma, and Emma nodded to confirm that it was recording.

Everyone in the room stared at the teddy bear intently, waiting for anything from it. Some were curious as to whether or not it would actually work the way they were promised it would, others were simply intrigued. Regina was the former. She doubted it would work, let alone, work the way it was advertised to. 

_Hi, I’m BooBuddy. What’s your name?_

Regina’s eyes widened, but Robin shook his head, knocking down that bit of hope she felt bubbling inside her. There was no change in their environment, nothing to get excited over.

It went quiet again, for longer this time.

And then—

_Perfect. Thanks for making it warmer._

“Holy shit,” Ruby whispered, and despite being a firm nonbeliever of the device, Regina’s heart began pounding.

_Do you want to be my friend?_

His paws lit up, indicating a change in the electromagnetic energy, a rather strong one, too.

_Aww. Thanks! I like holding hands with you._

All of them shifted their attention to the bear’s paws. Both seemed untouched, still in their original position. There wasn’t a force tugging them down, nothing of the sort pointing to the possibility of them being held.

“It doesn’t mean someone’s literally holding its hand,” Robin explained, “it just means that it detected a motion or a vibration around the room.”

“Right…” Emma drawled.

_Do you have any brothers or sisters?_

They agreed not to say anything during the session, let the bear speak for them, ask the things it was programmed to say. But Regina couldn’t help it. Whatever was in the room wasn’t responding to it through the EVP recorder and, well, curiosity got the best of her.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was low, tone soothing enough to put anyone at ease. Hopefully, it was enough to get some kind of a response from whoever was around, be it the child or the woman, or the dark presence that attached itself to her. Anything would do at that point. “If you’re here, if there’s _anything_ you wanna tell us, anything we can help with—tell us,” she pleaded.

_“No!”_

A child’s voice echoed through the EVP recorder, just as the teddy bear spoke again.

_Whew…it just got warm in here._

“It’s really warm,” Tink agreed, a frown settling over her features as she uncomfortably tugged at her sweater.

“Yeah,” Graham muttered, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt with a huff. “Aren’t haunted places supposed to be, like, freezing?”

_What was that? Could you please say it again?_

Regina jumped out of her seat with a loud, audible gasp, her hand flying to her bare shoulder. “It stings!” she grunted out, and Robin got up from where he sat, rushing over to her side with his phone in hand, using the light it provided to see in the darkness they were in.

“Oh my god, Regina…”

“Robin…“ Emma whispered, her eyes bulging, her hand flying to her mouth as she came closer to them.

“What is it?” Regina asked, her voice wavering despite her best attempt to stay calm. How the hell was she supposed to be relaxed when everyone was gaping at her?

“Graham, the holy water, _now_!” Robin demanded.

“Robin—“

“It’s a scratch,” Robin cut in, finally answering, and Regina’s eyes grew twice as big upon hearing that. “I’ve seen scratches before. Hell, I’ve _had_ them before, but that…Regina, that looks awful.” She could hear the worry in his tone. It was bad. It was very bad. And it fucking hurt. It burned, like her skin was on fire. “Stay still,” he requested, twisting open the small bottle of holy water they carried everywhere with them. They barely used it, in fact, if she recalled correctly, they only ever used it once before.

She grimaced when he dampened her skin with a few droplets and rubbed it along the angry red line that formed over her shoulder, then tugged her shirt down her arm to check if it stretched all the way down it, too. Fortunately, it didn’t. It was a wide scratch, but a short one. Nevertheless, it was agonizing.

“You’re okay,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to her temple as he wrapped his arms around her, and she sought his comfort, burrowing into him. She needed it. “You’re okay, darling.”

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> According to stories we’ve been told here and our parents before us, too, smelling smoke when nothing’s burning means there’s a demonic presence around. So next time you get a whiff of smoke that’s coming out of nowhere and so sudden, it could just be that.


End file.
